Under the Surface: Jeff Cohen

PFA: Tell us about where you grew up and about your family?

Cohen: I grew up in a lot of different places. My father worked for IBM, and we got transferred from New York to Florida, finally ending up in Atlanta in the early seventies. My mother's family is from North Carolina, so I spent every summer as a child on Carolina Beach, where my grandfather built a little cottage in 1933. The cottage is still there and I have put a lot of hours into keeping it going over the years.

PFA: How did your background influence your career?

Cohen: The beach is the closest thing I have to home, in the sense of a place where my childhood memories flourish. Having that has taught me the value of nostalgia, a major component in much of my landscape work. My fascination with water towers stems from this feeling; that iconic imagery that tells you from a distance that you're approaching familiar territory. The beach also taught me about the beauty of decay and weathered surfaces. I've watched things affected by the elements year after year until they attain that peculiar quality I associate with antiquity. It gives you a humbling sense of your own temporary nature; something else I've tried to convey with my paintings.

PFA: At what age did you become curious about art?

Cohen: My father has a wonderful innate artistic ability. He used to draw half a picture and have me finish it, as far back as I can remember. I received praise for my artistic talent from the time I first started making marks on paper and walls. I'm not sure I really showed that much special talent, but my parent's encouragement cemented my desire. By the time I was five, I was fully invested in my identity as an artist. It was then that my mom signed me up for art lessons with an artist friend of hers. I can remember my teacher setting up a still life with some alphabet blocks and a teddy bear for me to paint with tempera. After I worked on it for a while, the teacher kindly took the brush from my hand and said "look what happens when I make these ovals on the feet!" She then PAINTED ON MY ART WITH THE BRUSH. Defilement! I was so mad. That was a seminal moment for me. I think I have resisted artistic instruction ever since.

PFA: What inspires you? And, how do you stay inspired?

Cohen: There's a magical quality to certain kinds of images that I never tire of. I love living in the age of digital photography, when I can capture those incredible scenes whenever I come across them. I'm most drawn to the interaction between natural and man-made things: a glorious cloud-strewn sky behind a majestic, dilapidated water tower, or rusted bolts on an old sign. But I'm also drawn to graceful curves and the play of light on ordinary objects. It's the unexpected beauty that appeals to me most, found in places where it's least looked for. I try to have my camera with me as much as possible, so I can capture those moments when they happen. I also draw a lot of stuff from my head to keep the machinery oiled. I find that going off on tangents with my imagination seems to use a different part of my brain than the representational work. Doing one helps with the other, and is kind of refreshing.

PFA: What is your artistic philosophy?

Cohen: Long ago art had a very different purpose. There was a time when prodigious artistic skill was prized for recording imagery that would otherwise have been lost. Now we have photography for that, and the artist's role has become less definable. But even when the artist's role was more practical, people formed emotional connections with inspiring images that went beyond the pragmatic. That inspirational link is why art has persisted in all cultures throughout the world. The method of creating art, the subject matter, and the relationship to representation are all secondary to the message. That's why I love all kinds of art, from abstract expressionism to traditional realism to everything in between. I think the human connection to art is primal: we recognize signs and artifacts that have clearly been created by other humans and immediately feel a connection with them. I don't like to analyze it too much. If the connection is there for you, the art is working.

PFA: What do you need around you while you are working in the studio?
Cohen: My iPod. Okay, my paint and brushes help too.

PFA: What artist(s) has(have) had the biggest influence on your work?
Cohen: When I was very young I became fascinated with Leonardo (that's Leonardo, not "Da Vinci." That's one of my pet peeves! Vinci was where he came from.) I think I identified with the fact that he started so many amazing projects that he never finished. Yes, he completed many things as well, but that guy left a lot of big things uncompleted! My parents' basement was littered with the promising beginnings of many of my grand schemes. I used to make stop=motion super 8 films. I built model robots by buying model kits of tanks and planes and using the pieces for my original creations. I had all sorts of crazy inventions going, most of which I just didn't have the skill to pull off to my satisfaction. Years later, I was diagnosed with ADD. Now I've learned to manage that through medication coping techniques, and I'm happy to say that my creativity is flourishing - and I can actually finish things now! It makes me wonder. What would Leonardo have been able to do if he had Ritalin? Hmmm...

I also love Edward Hopper, Andrew Wyeth and Mark Ryden.

PFA: What do you most enjoy doing while you are not working?
Cohen: I like working in the garden, and traveling with my wife. I started going on cruises a couple of years ago, and discovered that it's a great way to see other parts of the world.

PFA: What is your favorite traveling experience?
Cohen: My wife and I went cave tubing in Belize. It was a religious experience. The rain forest is all it's cracked up to be, and more.

PFA: If you weren't an artist - would you be doing?
Cohen: For me, that's like saying, "if you didn't have a head, where would you put your hat?" If I wasn't an artist, I wouldn't be me. I've done other things in my life to make a living, but I was still an artist. It's too much a part of my identity for me to imagine anything else!